


he is just a man, after all

by TheRurrJurr



Series: one step up and two steps back [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, also a ton of speculation, angst angst angst, florida is the worst, inspired by recent events, intense bathroom chats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 02:25:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16801849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRurrJurr/pseuds/TheRurrJurr
Summary: "All those illusions strip and fall."She's not sure where it went wrong, or if she even wants to know.A quasi-mother/daughter chat.





	he is just a man, after all

**Fairmount Royal York  
December 1, 2018**

If you had told Alma Moir that 2018 would end like this, she would have thought you had smoked too much of Canada’s newly legal weed.

For a year that began with another Nationals title and the two gold medals that her son and his partner — his _partner_ partner — had poured their heart and soul into, it sure seemed like someone had taken the script, torn it up and thrown it out the window.

She had raised an eyebrow when Scott mentioned that he was going to Florida for his birthday weekend, despite having made loose plans with the family and Tessa to hang out at the cottage (“a guy’s trip,” he said). She was even more confused when he said he had invited his first partner to the show in Nashville ("She can hang out with Cara, and who knows when we'll be performing in the States again? It’ll be fun,” he had used as a way of an explanation). They had seemed friendly, nothing special, and he and Tessa seemed great, especially as the tour came to an end and they began to revel in what they had successfully created from the ground up.

But now, in this hotel ballroom, staring at Scott and the girl who had once said he was “too fast and immature to skate with” on the dance floor at the Walk of Fame after-party, something’s not adding up.

She and Joe are seated at a table a few feet over from them, and Alma’s just trying to make sense of everything in her head. Her youngest had always been impulsive, brash, occasionally cocky and charming, and also unfortunately good at rushing into relationships, especially when he wasn’t thinking right. And now as retirement loomed and the tour was over, with a bit of uncertainty going into 2019, it seemed like he was falling right back into his old habits. She thinks about calling up B2Ten and apologizing for his behavior in advance.

She still felt a pang of guilt for Kaitlyn, who bore the full brunt of his post-Sochi impulsivity, thinking that it would lead to something real and permanent, until he went back to Tessa.

Alma wishes there was a way for her to warn Jackie, before it’s too late, that he will always go back to Tessa.

For now, he’s twirling Jackie on the dance floor, and they’re both smiling and look happy, and Alma knows she should be happy for him, but it’s not sitting right. She’s not getting the full picture or the full story from anyone — even Cara had seemed shocked at these developments — and Scott’s certainly not talking, even at the rink right after they had returned from tour. “Fine. Busy, I guess,” had been his mumbled answer about how Tessa was doing before he took the ice to help one of the junior teams with their midline step sequence.

She looks around the room for the Virtues, somewhere around here. Kate had been pleasant but a little standoffish as they had all gathered on the red carpet earlier, a far cry from just a month ago at the local Thank You Canada shows where they had laughed, chatted and thoroughly enjoyed spending time with each other in the way that only people who have been tied together through their children for 20 years can. And if they had finally started taking bets on when the actual wedding date was going to be instead of just speaking in hypotheticals like they had for years, so be it.

And Tessa had barely acknowledged Alma’s presence hours earlier, giving her a brief smile in front of the photographers, fans and media lining the entrance to the Sony Centre. Alma thought she was crazy, but she swore that Tessa had tensed up when Scott dutifully wrapped his arm around her waist. Nothing like that had happened in a long time, during a time period that Alma would rather erase from her memories.

Now the girl who’s usually first on the dance floor and the last to leave is making a quick exit out of the room, muttering a quick “excuse me” as she brushes past Joe and Alma’s chairs. Alma watches Tessa jog back to her table, grab her purse and head out the double doors of the gala hall like the place is on fire.

Joe looks over at his wife quizzically and Alma shrugs, feeling helpless that something has gone terribly wrong and she can’t do anything about it. She purses her lips and shakes her head before meeting Scott’s eyes on the dance floor and motioning for him to come over. Scott squeezes Jackie’s hand quickly, whispers something, then makes his way through the crowd over to Alma. “Ma! What’s up?”

“Honey, is Tessa okay?" she asks, leaning over to him.

"What? Yeah, probably, why?" Scott says, sounding distracted.

“She just ran out of here like she was being chased,” Alma replies. Joe nervously glances between mother and son, waiting for Scott’s reaction.

Scott shrugs. “Not sure. Not feeling well, maybe.”

Alma gives her son a side-eye as the song ends. “I’ll be right back,” she says, leaving Joe and Scott behind to watch her go.

The Fairmount, already decked out for Christmas, is an opulent maze, but she thinks she might have an idea as to where Tessa went, and roaming the halls of the hotel gives her a chance to ponder what could have possibly gotten so bad between her son and the woman he had supposedly loved since they were kids — when it finally looked like it was working out — especially when things over the last few weeks had changed so suddenly. It’s part leftover maternal instinct from when they were babies being driven to and from Kitchener, part responsibility to Kate, who’s still one of her best friends no matter what, and part morbid curiosity about exactly what the hell has transpired.

Alma finally catches sight of Tessa, ducking into the restroom at the end of the hall, away from the crowds and noise of the gala. She waits a few seconds, then follows Tessa in. The door opens to a salon area with a mirror and a few plush benches sitting against the wall, but no sign of anyone else in there.

Alma looks around, then turns the corner into the bathroom and hears someone exhale a deep sigh. Tessa’s leaning over the dark marble sink, her purse in between her hands resting on the surface, breathing deeply with her eyes closed. She opens them when Alma's heels hit the tile floor, but Tessa doesn’t acknowledge her presence, staring straight ahead where the wall meets the sink.

For once, Alma's at a complete loss for words and has no idea where to begin, or why she even came in here. Offering sympathy doesn't seem appropriate, since she’s not exactly sure what she could be offering sympathy for, nor does the usual girl chat and banter they usually engage in. So instead she goes for a simple greeting. "Hi there."

Tessa snaps her head over and gives Alma a tight-lipped smile that doesn't come near her eyes. "Hi." She clears her throat and turns back to face the mirror, unzipping her bag and fumbling around before pulling out her lipstick. Shaky hands undo the tube and apply a coat on her lips before Tessa closes it tighter than necessary and drops it back in her bag, lifting it up to absentmindedly rummage around it. Her updo is meticulous, her dress is perfect, and to anyone else on the outside she looks fantastic, but not even in the worst moments after Sochi has Alma seen her so frought.

Alma decides to go for it. ”Are you okay, honey?" She walks closer and gently lays a hand on Tessa's shoulder. She feels Tessa freeze underneath her touch and Alma slowly removes her hand, dropping it to her side. That has never happened before — even in Scott’s most pig-headed, obnoxious moments, Tessa had always remained pleasant and if nothing else cordial to her and Joe.

What in the hell did her son do to her.

Tessa plops her bag down, purses her lips and inhales deeply, bracing herself with her hands against the sink, her rings glinting in the fluorescent light. "I'm fine, thank you," she finally manages, tight and quiet.

Alma nods, unsure of how to proceed. "Just let me know — "

"No offense, Alma, but you are the last person I want to talk to right now. Or the third-to-last person, actually," Tessa says, her voice slightly rising.

Alma glances at the floor. "If it helps, we were all surprised — "

“Alma.” Tessa raises her hand, palm facing outward. “Please. I don't want to get angry with you." Tessa's voice is sharp in a rare moment of being close to losing control. "It's bad enough that I have to go out there and pretend everything's okay, because that's what I'm really good at doing and that's what everyone expects me to do, and we have the book signing next week so I get to do more of it then, but please leave me alone. I don't want to talk about it."

Alma nods again. "Okay. Well, if you do decide you want to talk — "

"Alma!" Angry hands slam the marble. She’s maybe heard Tessa raise her voice twice in 21 years, so it's jarring and shocking, especially coming from the girl who's always been Scott's more level-headed half. Tessa’s head finally whips around to face her. Her eyes are bloodshot, her face flushed and her gaze is set. “He blindsided me. He actually cheated on me this time. I don't know why you're doing this. Just, stop. Go hang out with him and…her. Please.” Tessa turns to face the mirror again, getting her breathing under control.

While it’s not a full answer to what happened, the words still sting, and Alma shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say.”

Tessa's shaking, trying to control herself, and Alma can't do anything but watch. Tessa’s right hand comes up to rub her forehead, and she continues almost as if she’s talking to herself. “He told me in Nashville that nothing was going on with her. He was fine — we were fine — in the days after. We were great at the last shows. And then we got home and he said she was coming here and that was that, he couldn't even let us have this weekend, which we — " Tessa squeezes her eyes shut, like it’s painful to think about the fact that there's not a "we" anymore, " — I have been looking forward to for months.”

She pauses and studies the area where the sink and the wall meet. “And I’m the one dealing with it with our stupid fans and it’s not even my fault, you know? But he’s not getting hate on his Instagram or his Twitter for the shit that he pulled and he can’t own up to any of this and that’s the worst part.” She crosses her arms defensively in front of herself. “Look, I still want to respect you, okay? It's bad enough that I have to be polite to..." Tessa stops herself again and takes a deep breath. "Could you please just leave me be.”

Alma purses her lips. She both wants to wrap her arms around the girl who’s become a surrogate daughter to her and to march back into the ballroom to find her son, pull him into the middle of the dance floor and beat him senseless in front of everyone. She’ll figure out later how this all happened, but right now Tessa — who looks like her entire world has just fallen apart — doesn’t need questions. “It’s no consolation coming from me, I’m sure, but I’m sorry.”

She lays a hand on Tessa’s trembling arm and Tessa shakes her head. “No. I am so fucking stupid.”

It's quiet, almost muttered so that only Tessa was supposed to hear it, but Alma cocks her head to listen as Tessa pauses to collect herself. “I mean, once was him being young and scared and afraid to face things when our career was up in the air and our personal relationship was too and we slept together way too soon. That second time after Sochi was out of feeling like a failure and the silver and retirement stress and blowing off steam with someone else. This third time, though…" Tessa's voice breaks at the end of her thought and Alma closes her eyes.

Tessa looks down and bites her lip hard, trying to control the quivering. “I asked him for some time,” she says softly. "I didn’t want to end this, ever, I just..." she swallowed hard as Alma saw the tears at the corner of her eyes. "We agreed, no big personal or professional decisions in the year after Pyeongchang. We knew — I thought we knew — it was just too much to think about and there's been so much happening and we’ve barely been home,” (and someone will have to get Scott’s things out of Tessa’s house, Alma thinks, and that’s not a conversation for right now) “and the last thing I wanted to do was something rash.”

Tessa exhales as the first tears slip down her cheek and her words get faster as she struggles to continue. "I just…I said I needed to figure out what comes next for me but that didn't mean breaking up, we were always together, it was always supposed to include him. That was the plan. It always was in my mind and the way he talked about us and everything and, we were supposed to figure it all out together because that was the whole point of coming back, being together…” She takes a shaky breath as her lower lip starts trembling uncontrollably. She wraps her arms around herself and hiccups for air. "And then all this happened and I don’t know what I did wrong, I just needed some time and he couldn't even give me that after everything, all I did was ask for was some time..."

Tessa's knees give out as she collapses into sobs. Alma rushes forward to grab her around her waist, holding her up and moving them to sit on a bench in the salon area. Tessa bends over, her face in her hands and Alma jumps up quickly, bolts the main door to the bathroom (God forbid Jackie walks in), and returns to wrap her arms around Tessa.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alma assures her, rubbing her hand up and down Tessa’s back as body-wracking sobs run through her, the emotions and the pressure and the uncertainty of the last few months being released. Alma lays Tessa’s head against her chest and pulls her in tighter. “It’s okay.”

It’s a scene that’s played out between them before, but never like this. Suddenly Tessa's nine years old again and torn between ballet and Scott, or twelve and upset because the girls at the rink (including the one Scott is dancing with right now) are making unpleasant comments about her nose or her hair, or fifteen and terrified to leave home and move to another country with no guarantee of success, or nineteen and faced with excruciating pain and an uncertain future in her sport, or 22 and dealing with coaches who should be in their corner but aren’t, or 24 and staring down retirement and perceived failure before most of her friends have started their careers.

Never in a million years did Alma expect to be here with Tessa at 29 and dealing with her son breaking the heart of the only girl that ever mattered. 

Tessa’s sobs subside to sniffles and tears after a few minutes and Alma places a comforting kiss on the top of her head. She’s choked up herself and considers her words before starting. “I know that nothing I say can make this go away or fix it,” she begins, rubbing Tessa’s shoulder. “And I know that you wouldn’t want to hear it from me anyway.”

Tessa doesn’t respond but doesn’t move either, and Alma takes it as an invitation to continue. “I wish I could tell you why he would do something like that over and over, but I can’t. I’m at a loss too, honey.” She pauses and glances down at Tessa. “You two have never been easy. Your mother and I used to worry that he was either going to get you pregnant at 17 or that you’d kill each other before Vancouver. And I think they were both valid concerns.” Alma inhales deeply before continuing. “I don’t know why he did this to you. I wish I did, because it would make yelling at him tonight a whole lot easier. And I can’t apologize for him because that would be meaningless.”

Alma nudges Tessa’s chin up and brushes a strand of hair out of her face.“But I do know that your story isn’t over. Not by a long shot. This is just a bump in the road, I promise. A bad bump, but a bump nonetheless.”

Tessa wipes her eyes and sniffles. “I don’t know if I can deal with any more bumps. Or if I want to.”

Alma nods. “I understand. I can’t make that decision for you or him.” She cups Tessa’s cheek. “It’s entirely up to you two to decide if it's worth it. But having had a very stressful, entertaining, moving, but mostly enjoyable front-row seat to this show, I think that it is.”

Tessa closes her eyes. “I just can’t even think about that right now.”

“Nor should you,” Alma assures her and pushes another strand of hair back. “I can’t even imagine how hard this is, and I know how quickly and easily you can put on a brave face, but that’s not always a good thing. Just know that it’s fine and normal to be hurting right now.”

Tessa nods but doesn’t say anything. Alma pulls back and presses a kiss to Tessa’s forehead. “It’s going to be okay. Not tonight or tomorrow or maybe not for a while. But it will be.” She stands up and offers Tessa a hand.

Tessa takes it, pushes herself off the bench and ekes out a smile. “I’m — “

“No,” Alma insists. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Tessa nods and takes a steadying breath. “Thank you, then.”

“Anytime, honey. I mean it.” She raises an eyebrow. “Are you okay? If you want to be left alone in here, I totally understand.”

Tessa shakes her head. “No, no, it’s fine. I probably should make one more appearance out there, right?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Alma reminds her. “Listen. No matter how this ends, my door is always open for you.” Alma opens her arms and Tessa steps into the hug. They hold on for a few moments before Alma speaks again. “If it’s any consolation, I like you a lot better. And his brothers will murder him when they find out, if they haven’t already.”

Tessa lets out a laugh-cry and pulls back. “I’m sorry, I probably look like a wreck.”  
“You look beautiful as always,” Alma says, “but why don’t I stand guard at the door and make sure no one comes in if you want to freshen up, okay?”

Tessa nods. “Sure.”

“Okay.” She squeezes Tessa’s arm and moves outside. She closes the door and leans against it, massaging her temples.

“Ma?” Danny’s making his way down the hall, looking at his mother quizzically. “Where the hell have you been?”

She gestures to the bathroom door. “I was just having a conversation with an old friend, that’s all,” she assures him.

“Standing here? You’re a bathroom bouncer now?”

She tilts her head knowingly towards the door. “I don’t want anyone to disturb Tess right now while she puts herself back together.”

Danny’s eyes widen in understanding before he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “I’m going to kill him. What an asshole.”

“He’s still your brother,” she reminds him.

“Look, I know you’re thinking the same thing, especially after talking with her,” he gestures towards the bathroom door. “He’s an asshole. No two ways around it. I love him, but he keeps doing this and he keeps being an asshole.”

Alma shrugs. “I’m not sure where your dad and I screwed up there. You and Charlie turned out great.”

“Charlie and I didn’t move away from home with the girl we were in love with at the height of puberty,” Danny points out. “I don’t know, Ma. Maybe one day he’ll be good at something off the ice. But definitely not today.”

Alma cocks an eyebrow at her eldest as the door handle turns and Tessa re-emerges, looking as if nothing had happened. “You look gorgeous,” Alma assures her.

Tessa softly smiles and glances up at Danny. “I think I might go find Jordan and turn in early, if that’s okay.”

“I’ll walk you back to the ballroom to get your stuff,” Danny offers and wraps a supportive arm around her shoulder.

Alma reaches out for Tessa’s arm and Tessa turns around. “It might be uncomfortable, but I’m always here to talk or to listen,” Alma assures her.

Tessa half-smiles and nods. “Thank you.” Alma waits a few moments then follows behind them.

The ballroom is emptying out as the first few waves of people start to leave, and Alma takes her seat at the table next to Scott, Jackie sitting to his left. "We were beginning to think you ran away," he jokes. "Wanna dance? It’s finally not packed out there.”

She suddenly finds it hard to look him and Jackie in the eye. "No, you two go ahead. I’m a little tired.”

Scott shrugs and leads Jackie towards the center of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Alma catches Tessa, Kate and Jordan gathering their things to leave. For the first time in almost five years, Alma’s not sure when she’ll see them again, and that thought fills her with immense sadness.

She looks back to the dance floor, Scott bopping around to “Footloose” per usual and Jackie laughing at him, and aside from wondering how the hell this is going to work with her in one country and him in another, she can’t help but feel a little bit of anger that he still really hasn’t learned from his mistakes, that so many people are going to be hurt when this ends, and she only hopes it ends before it can spiral.

Joe places a hand on her shoulder and bends down. “I’m gonna go,” he says. “Ready?”

She takes one look back at the dance floor and nods. “Yeah.”

On the way out of the room, she thinks she’d really like to have a chat with whoever or whatever has put all these events in motion and let them know that this is not the way it’s supposed to end.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure when all my intense fanfic conversations started happening in bathrooms but whatever, I'll roll.
> 
> s/o to Patti Scialfa for the title. I'll plug her underrated, underappreciated music forever.
> 
> Also, fuck Florida.


End file.
